The Mistress of the Garden Gate Strikes Again
by claraowl
Summary: One glance towards eternity. Two steps towards the door. Three breaths upon an unseen face. Four, forever more. Amuto.


**Claraowl: Hello again! Sorry that this is so short. T-T **

**Ikuto: *blinks* What is it with you and nighttime?**

**Claraowl: I'm ClaraOWL for a reason, silly.**

**Amu: Claraowl does not own any of this!**

Three steps, taken cheerily down a sidewalk. It was early Saturday morning; the birds sang in the trees. Yes, the girl was alone, but she was happy. It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, the air was clear, and the flowers were in full bloom. Hair swishing slightly in the light breeze, the girl hummed a happy melody. All was right with the world.

A fourth step took her to a new street. Weeping willow trees swept over the sidewalk on both sides of the street, softening the sunlight and making a labyrinth of shadows. The girl twirled happily along the left side of the street, stepping only where the shadows fell.

A fifth twirl brought her to a small sign pointing to her left, indicating that there was a tiny flea market within the nearby building. She grinned, thinking of the coins in her pocket and the unknown treasures waiting to be discovered.

Six steps later, she entered the building. It smelled of dust and ancient days; little light was to be found, with the exception of small candles scattered throughout the room. The girl, thinking of all the bargains she would find, beamed and bounded towards the back of the room, towards the single booth. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she entered.

On her seventh bound, she reached the booth. A lone woman sat in an ancient chair, playing solitaire on a decrepit-looking suitcase. The woman looked up at the girl, shaking back her dark, waist-length hair. She was a mismatch for the things around her; her age was impossible to discern, while the objects were undeniably antique. She gestured a wordless hello to the girl and indicated that she may look at anything she pleased. The girl smiled at the woman and began to observe the objects.

The eighth time her foot made contact with the floor, bringing her to the very back of the stall, something caught the girl's eye. She bit her lip and bent down to get a closer look. There was a note on the floor, bearing her name. It was folded many times.

On the ninth unfolding, she was able to read the message: Never make eye contact in an old mirror until you know who it belonged to. Her eyebrows furrowed; what on earth could this mean? Maybe the note was meant for someone besides herself. She re-folded the note and put it back where she had found it. She continued to observe all the items in the back part of the stall, her breath coming slightly more quickly than it had before the note.

When the tenth breath had passed through her lips, her eyes fell upon a small, metal object. Her curiosity peaked; she reached out to pick it up. However, it was too high up for her to reach it. She glanced around for something to help her.

One moment later, she was standing on a small stepstool. She reached up and pulled down the object. It was, from what she could tell from the back, a small hand mirror. Golden in color, it was finely decorated, but tarnished with age. There appeared to be two hearts, with letters inside, though she could not tell which; surrounding and connecting them were twisting, wrapping vines, creating a labyrinth not unlike that the willow trees had made outside. The girl noticed this. Smiling, she ran her hand over the back of the mirror, tracing the hearts.

After she traced the second heart, she decided to flip it over; however, the warning words of the note came into her mind. The girl shook her head. The note couldn't have been for her; therefore, the words held no meaning. One look couldn't do anything harmful. Goosebumps on her arms, the hair on the back of her neck standing up, and shivers on her skin, the girl flipped the mirror over and met her reflection's gaze.

Three steps, taken sadly down the pathway. Still early on a beautiful Saturday morning, the woman walked towards the place where the girl stood, frozen. She shook her head, pitying the girl. Why hadn't she obeyed the note?

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?"

Four steps back to her chair; the tall, pale woman sighed as she sat back down and resumed her game of solitaire.

After five minutes of being a stone statue, a silent storm began to rage inside the girl's head. Why hadn't she obeyed the note? Why hadn't she just kept walking along the sidewalk? Why was the mirror still in her hand?

Six minutes had passed; she suddenly felt very warm… as if someone she knew was coming near. While she was still in the same position, the woman had moved. She was now looking at a spot slightly above the girl's head.

Seven seconds later, the woman sighed, "Joining dreams is such a hassle. You know, it's a good thing that I'm such a sucker for romance. Now, don't worry, sweetie," she said, standing up and walking towards the girl, "I'm not going to actually hurt you. I'm just going to make your significant other think that you're about to die. He'll save you in this dream, but will just see the sword drop in his. He'll wake up in a panic and rush over to make sure that you're alright. In doing so, he'll admit how much he loves you. A simple love story, yes? You'll thank me when this is over with; they always do. The Mistress of the Garden Gate knows best!"

Eight heartbeats; the warm sensation grew larger in the girl's chest.

Nine footsteps; the woman walked out of the girl's line of vision.

Ten touches; the woman's fingertips brushed over several objects before picking up something large, sharp, and very heavy.

One moment of shock; the girl saw that the woman was holding an ancient-looking, heavily bloodstained sword. Had she not been made of stone, the girl would have gulped.

Two seconds past. In the first, the woman stepped forward, made sure that the mirror was firmly gripped in the girl's hand. In the second, she raised the sword above the girl's head, just as the doors of the building burst open, revealing a man.

In a matter of three moments, the man crossed the floor and lunged at the woman and girl; the girl turned back from stone to human, the sword was knocked out of the woman's hand, the woman vanished, and a door opened, revealing a garden. The man gripped the girl tightly and escorted her out to the garden. He opened his mouth to ask her something, but was interrupted by a loud rattling noise.

{Pop}

The girl groaned and looked up at her balcony, which, for once, she had remembered to lock. Muttering things about indecent hours and dream meddlers, she walked over and allowed the man from her dream to enter. As he had in the dream, he gripped her tightly upon reaching her.

"Don't tell me - let me guess: You had a nightmare where I got killed by some lady who hit me in the head with a sword."

"How'd you know?" He muttered into her hair, holding her tightly.

"I had the same dream, just the other side of the story; I was a bit too curious, got turned to stone, and wound up getting talked at by a lady who proclaimed to be 'The Mistress of the Garden Gate.' Apparently, your nightmare was some grand scheme to get us together. In my half of the dream - according to her, we were having some sort of 'joint dream' - you knocked the sword away, she vanished, and you wound up holding me like this in some sort of garden. You started to ask me something, but then I was awakened by a loud, rattling sound."

Ikuto blinked. "Phew."

Suddenly, there was a great crash of thunder outside and a downpour began. The girl sighed and drew back from the man. She walked over to her balcony door, locked it, and, smiling, took his hand. They snuggled together on her bed and were soon asleep. A soft, purring sound filled the room, created by the two breathing as one.

Neither of them heard the whisper from the unseen woman, "Catnip for two, coming up. Sweet dreams, lovecats." She quietly placed the mirror on Amu's desk, free of tarnish and with a note of its ancestry.

*End*

**Claraowl: Please review!**

**Rima: Also, tell her if you liked this one or the Rimahiko one better, please.**

**Nagi: Parfait time. *smiles***

**Amu & Ikuto: Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….**

**Ran, Miki, Su, & Dia: Aw, the mirror has an "A" and an "I" on it.**


End file.
